by Payne, T. L.
"Jaxon. Is that you?"
"Roger that. I have Russ with me. He's injured."
"Who's Russ?" Larry asked.
"A local kid," Maddie said, running over to assist Jaxon.
Jaxon held Russ upright with one arm and the SAW in the other.
"I caught a ricochet," Russ said.
"Where are you injured?” Larry asked, grabbing him around the waist.
"Um—my ass."
Maddie stifled a laugh.
"See anyone?" Maddie asked as Larry carried Russ to the truck.
"No. You?"
"Not a living soul."
She turned and followed Larry and Russ to the truck. Jaxon fell in behind them.
"Think they’re all dead?" Maddie asked.
"Or escaped into town. I'm sure some of them did get out before we got around to that southeast gate. It was just too dark to see. We will likely never know how many got away."
"What the hell happened? Who shot first?” Maddie asked, through her fingers. She pulled the collar of her T-shirt up to cover her mouth and nose.
"Dustin said the first shot came from inside the prison building. He heard shots, then inmates flooded out of the building. The next thing he knew, the buildings were on fire and so many prisoners were pushing against the gates that the whole thing caved under their weight."
"How long before daylight, do you think?" Maddie asked.
Jaxon raised his hand up in front of his face. Maddie shined her light on his watch. “About two hours, I'd say."
"Lord. Those will be the longest two hours of my life," Maddie said.
Chapter 30
Houston, Missouri
Event + 23 Days
The last time Zach had visited the city of Houston, Missouri, he'd been nine years old. He vaguely recalled playing at the Emmett Kelly Park. His dad had brought him to Houston to visit a civil war reenactment. Zach had been captivated by the cannons and long guns. He'd drunk root beer from a bottle with a cork in it. It had been a great day.
Not like today. Today, they were going up against a tyrannical group who'd killed his friend, Todd, and shot Jacob's uncle. They'd stolen supplies from the prison. Supplies that were likely the only thing keeping the thugs from storming the gates and flooding into the countryside.
Zach gritted his teeth as he tightened the strap on his rifle sling. The low, red sun shone on his sweaty face as Harvey pointed toward the west.
"Guffey's hardware store is three blocks west on Grand. I think we should head back south to Chestnut Street, cross over Grand, and then go north on First Street. There's an alley that runs between the buildings from Mill Street to Guffey's store. We'd be pretty concealed and can recon the place before going in."
"Won't he have guards posted?" Zach asked.
"Only one or two," the tall man in the gray hoodie said.
"We can distract them," a tall, sandy-blonde woman dressed in hunter’s camouflage said, nodding toward a shorter redhead girl. The taller of the two unzipped her jacket revealing a white tank top. Zach’s eyes widened. His face turned bright red. He was confident that she did, indeed, have all the right equipment needed to distract Guffey's guards.
Rank broke their larger group up into squads of five. Harvey led his two daughters, a man in his late forties, and a teenaged boy. The two females were flanked by a tall, broad man in his thirties, an older woman, and a teenaged girl. They all held their weapons and carried themselves like they knew what they were doing.
Zach, Rank, Roger, and Lugnut brought up the rear. They were strangers in the town. They didn't know the territory or the people.
Each team ran south to Chestnut Street before turning west and running down the middle of the streets. There weren't many houses in that section of town. One whole block was empty. Where Chestnut intersected with Grand Avenue, Harvey held his fist in the air. He stopped, dropped to a knee, and raised a set of binoculars to his face. Making a circular motion with his arm, he stood and ran across Grand Avenue.
At First Street, Harvey repeated the maneuver before turning right and heading north down a narrow alley. One of the teams broke off and headed north down another street.
At the next street, Harvey stopped, held up a fist, and flattened himself against the side of a concrete block building. He leaned forward and peered around the corner to his right. He held up two fingers. His team crouched down beside the building. Harvey motioned, and the two women who had volunteered to distract the guards ran forward. After a moment, the two women stripped off their jackets and casually walked around the corner out of Zach's sight. Harvey motioned for everyone to proceed, then darted across the road to another alley.
Gunfire rang out. Zach was aware of Roger moving parallel to him on his right. On his left, Rank and Lugnut moved in a crouch, their rifles at the ready-fire position. Zach hugged the wall of the building as he inched forward toward the street. He made eye contact with Harvey, who had made it to the alley on the other side. A broad smile spread across the man's weathered face. He looked like he was enjoying this a little too much, in Zach's humble opinion.
A man popped up from behind a large green dumpster. Zach put the HoloSite’s red, floating reticle on the center of the man's face and squeezed the trigger. Bile rose in this throat as he watched the man fall forward.
Harvey looked behind him then back at Zach—the smile gone from his face. Zach didn't have time to think about the fact that he'd just taken the man's life because a second man, and then a third man, jumped out and began returning fire.
Zach sensed movement to his left. In a tenth of a second, he recognized Rank had stepped around him.
"Run, Zach," Rank yelled, pointing to a purple compact car parked about thirty feet away.
Rank stepped forward and began returning fire as Zach sprinted to the vehicle, slamming his shoulder against the fender as he dove for cover. Rising slowly to look over the hood, Zach saw three more men crouched behind a truck parked along the road to his right. Before he could duck, a round whizzed past, kicking up a chunk of concrete that flew up and struck Zach in the ankle. He cried out at the same time that a second round struck the hood of the vehicle.
Zach raised his rifle and found the shooter crouched beside an ATV about fifty yards away. He placed his dot on the man's chest, squeezed, and the man slumped over, clutching his chest. The red bloom on his shirt was all the proof Zach needed that the man was out of the fight.
"Zach. Move left," Rank yelled over a cacophony of rifle fire.
Zach rose into a crouch and ran across the street to the alley where he'd last seen Harvey. His shoulder hugged the building as he ran down the alley, passing the three dead men by the dumpster. A trailer, still full of supplies, sat just outside an open garage door. More gunfire erupted to his left, and Zach saw the tall man in the gray hoodie hit the ground. It was one of the men with the decoy girls. He wondered what had happened to the women.
Zach heard footfalls on concrete and shifted, bringing his rifle up. He was just about to squeeze the trigger when a young woman appeared at the corner across the street. Their eyes met. For a moment, Zach thought it was the women from his group, but the hate and rage contorting this woman's face dispelled that notion. He watched as she raised a revolver, pointing it directly at him.
Zach hesitated a moment before turning his dot on her. The woman roared and fired her revolver. A bullet whizzed past Zach's left ear and slammed into the woman, striking her in the face just above the bridge of her nose. She fell in slow motion. Zach stood frozen, watching as she hit the ground. A hand on his shoulder jolted him from his trance.
"Move," Roger yelled, pointing toward the next cover location.
Zach's legs didn't want to cooperate. They felt like wet noodles as he attempted to run to the corner of the next building. They'd made it. They'd run the gauntlet of Guffey's defenses and made it to his store. As Zach crouched behind an air-conditioning unit, breathing in gasps, successive bursts of gunfire drowned out all other nois
e. Roger dropped his pack and retrieved a concussion grenade. A second later, Rank sprinted across the street and fell in behind them, followed closely by Lugnut and then Harvey.
Rank took up a position on one side of a wide, wooden door while Harvey jumped a small stoop and pushed himself against the wall on the opposite side. Lugnut slammed his boot into the door and it flew open. He dropped down into a crouch at the same time Roger lobbed the grenade into the building. Lugnut dove to his left, nearly knocking Zach to the ground as the concussive blast erupted inside the building.
Rank and Harvey were the first inside, followed by Roger. Lugnut scanned the alley before motioning for Zach.
"Watch for Guffey's men," Lugnut said, before disappearing inside.
Zach placed his back to the wall and scanned right then left, up and down the alley. Gunfire still rang out close by. Zach wondered where the rest of their team was.
Where were Harvey's daughters? Where were all the men from the pickup? More importantly, where were all of Guffey's men. He'd expected more resistance.
In a town this size, why hadn't the people refused to be bullied by the man? It didn't make sense to Zach. Had they become so accustomed to the judge keeping everyone in line that no one knew how to think for themselves any longer.
Short bursts of gunfire from inside the building jostled Zach from his thoughts. Screams followed. More gunfire came from the street in front of the building.
A figure appeared in the doorway. At first Zach thought it was Harvey, but the terrified look on the man's face told Zach he was mistaken. The man held his hands in the air.
"I don't want no trouble. I didn't want no part of any of this shit," the man said.
Zach raised his rifle.
"I ain't got no beef with any of you. I just want to go home to my little girls, that's all. I ain't armed."
Zach motioned for the man to step forward. After seeing that the man didn't have a weapon on him, Zach motioned down the alley.
"Get then."
"Thank you," the man yelled over his shoulder as he sprinted down the alley and around the next building.
Zach didn't want to kill anyone he didn't have to. He hoped he wouldn't regret it.
A movement behind him followed by a burst of gunfire sent Zach diving for cover behind the air-conditioning units. He landed hard on his right knee. Intense pain shot through him. His vision went black for a moment. A wave of nausea threatened to cause his stomach to evict his breakfast.
Harvey's daughter dropped beside him. Her head hit the edge of the AC unit. More rounds kicked up gravel a few feet away before Zach could roll over and bring his rifle up. Just as he managed to sit up enough to free his rifle and bring it up, a shadow fell over the lifeless woman's torso. Zach looked up in time to see a large figure with a shotgun in his hands. Zach rolled over onto his back, brought his knees up and leveled the rifle in front of him. He didn't hesitate this time. He fired as the man swung the shotgun toward his position. The man fell next to Harvey's daughter. Zach scrambled to his feet and ran to the corner of the building to see who else might be coming.
The street was filled with people. They carried baseball bats and tire irons. An elderly man held a small hammer above his head. They were chasing a man. From the rage on the people's faces, the man they were chasing had to be one of Guffey's crew.
Zach put his back against the wall and let them pass by. He heard an engine turn over. A second later, a truck sped past—three men in the cab and two in the back. Zach considered whether he should fire on them. But he'd never seen Guffey or his men. How could he be sure those men weren't just regular citizens in the wrong place at the wrong time? Voices shouted to the right and drew his attention away. A crowd of people turned and ran down the middle of the street, chasing and shouting at the occupants of the truck.
Rank, Lugnut, and Roger appeared at his side. A moment later, Harvey appeared. He ran down the street for a block chasing the men, but they sped away too fast for him to get a shot off.
"Mother fucking cowards," Harvey yelled as he sprinted back.
Zach looked down as Harvey approached. The pained look on Zach's face aroused Harvey's suspicions.
"What?"
Harvey looked from Zach to Rank, then to Roger.
Zach looked up.
"I'm sorry, Harvey."
"What?" Harvey said, a plea in his voice.
Zach pointed. The wail Harvey released was bone-chilling. Zach had heard that type of anguish before. It had come from his sister's mouth the day their mother had informed them that their dad had been killed by the drunk driver. As he did now, Zach had stood as a stoic observer as his mother and sister had released their grief into the world.
Harvey cradled his daughter in his arms, sobbing, and rocking her as her sister emerged around the corner of the building opposite them. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw her father and sister on the ground. A hand flew up to her mouth, and she dropped to her knees. Another woman ran around the corner and stopped, looked to Harvey then back to the woman on her knees, then slowly walked over to her. Two men appeared behind them, followed by what was left of their group.
Shots rang out. The noise reverberated between the buildings.
"Where is that coming from?" Zach asked as they all crouched.
"Up there," Roger said, pointing to a rooftop to Zach's left.
A round whizzed by and slammed into the air conditioner.
"Go. Go. Go," Lugnut yelled.
As Zach scrambled for cover, Lugnut, Rank, and Roger ran into the building across the alley. Harvey had pulled his daughter's lifeless body over to the dumpster Zach was hiding behind. He cradled her head in his lap as he attempted to reload his rifle.
Zach took the rifle from him, ejected the magazine, and slapped a new one in. After handing the rifle to Harvey, Zach shifted his position to watch the north end of the alley. The sound of additional gunfire on the roof was followed by silence.
"All clear up top," Rank yelled from the top of the building.
A moment later, Lugnut, Rank, and Roger all stood beside the dumpster.
"Zach. Let's go get the truck. We'll load up and get the hell out of here," Rank said, stretching out his hand to help Zach to his feet.
After backtracking a second time, Zach was sure that Rank was lost. Zach had not paid attention to the streets Harvey had led them down to get to Guffey's store either, so he was no help guiding them back to the park to retrieve the truck. Somehow, likely by accident, they came out on a familiar road. A right turn and Zach could see the park. They only needed to cross an empty lot and walk south another block.
They hugged the side of a large, older, white home as they scanned the area of the vacant lot. Rank went first crouching low, rifle at the ready fire position. When Rank reached a row of hedges along the road, he stopped and crouched.
Crack.
Zach registered the noise two seconds too late.
Zach pivoted on his right heel and came face to face with a middle-aged man holding a baseball bat over his head. Zach ducked just in time. The bat struck him across the shoulder. He lunged for the man and the two of them tumbled to the ground. They rolled around in the grass, Zach trying desperately to get control of the bat and wrench it away from the man.
Zach rolled and felt a boot under his left shoulder. He raised up and caught an elbow to the eye—pain shot through his head. Zach saw light flick at the corners of his vision.
The boot belonged to Rank who had his rifle in the man's back.
"Let go of the bat. Get to your knees, nice and slow. Do it now," Rank barked in the most authoritative voice Zach had ever heard. If he'd been the aggressor, he would have complied.
This man didn't. Rank's patience having run out, he bent down and seized the man by his shirt. He hauled him to his feet, yanked the bat from his grasp, and tossed the man to the ground. The man skidded back away from Zach.
"Let's go, Zach," Rank said, extending a hand to help him to his
feet.
Blood ran down Zach's cheek as he bent over to stand. He rubbed the blood from his eye with the back of his hand. It smeared everywhere. He felt his head. His hair was soaked in blood. He could hardly see as they ran the final block to the truck. Zach was winded and light-headed as he reached for the door handle. He piled into the seat and laid his head back.
"That looks like it hurts," Rank said as he shoved the key into the ignition.
"No. Not at all," Zach laughed.
As Harvey loaded his daughter's body into the back of a pickup, the town’s residents helped Rank, Lugnut, Roger, and Zach load the supplies that Guffey had stolen into the FEMA truck. Rank walked over and placed his hand on Harvey's shoulder, said something in his ear, and turned to go. Harvey's other daughter stepped forward and extended her hand. After shaking it, Rank helped her up into the bed of the truck.
"I cannot tell you how grateful we are that you came and ran that asshat out of town," a middle-aged woman wearing black leggings and a dirty pink T-shirt said as she handed up the last box.
"You all need to elect someone to run things before someone else steps in who is twice as bad as Guffey," Jacob said as he walked up behind the woman.
She spun around to face him.
"What we need is a sheriff, Sheriff," she said, placing chubby hands on her round hips.
"You should hold an election and hire one, then," Lugnut said as he hopped down from the back of the truck.
"And what exactly do you think we would be able to pay one with?" she asked.
"I'll tell you what, Wanda, in a day or two, after things calm down at the prison, I'll come over, and we can have a town hall meeting and discuss all this. But I can tell you one thing, folks around here are going to need to step up and do their share, or no one is going to make it," Jacob said.
Jacob didn't wait for her reply. He hiked his leg up on the bumper and climbed into the back of the truck.
Zach watched the group leave as Lugnut put their truck into gear. They rolled through the alley and turned onto Grand Avenue. People lined both sides of the street—some held bats and others held shotguns and pistols. They smiled and waved as the truck passed them. At the first intersection, an older man held the arms of a younger man. Blood poured from wounds in the both of their foreheads.
